I will try really hard not to spend too long ranting about the shocking etiquette (or lack of it) displayed by today’s cinema-goers but I am going to have to mention it. I’ll try to keep it brief so that we can talk about the masterpiece that is Les Miserables.
Firstly we have to sit through twenty minutes of adverts shown on telly every night (what happened to those Pearl and Dean cinema specials?); after this,we are treated to a handful of trailers for films that have not been chosen to suit the taste of 200-odd people (or should that be 200 odd people?) spending a Saturday afternoon watching a musical.
These horrors are trumped, however,by the couple sitting next to me who clearly had no idea what they were letting themselves in for. Maybe they thought it was a 90 minute French vampire film, or a comedy about a man called Leslie Miserables. Whatever. Within five minutes, the girl tried opening the bumper-sized packet of Maltesers on her lap – then realised it was going to make a terrible noise and thought better of it. She disturbed us ten minutes later by over-apologetically going to the loo (or the shop to buy quieter sweets).
After two hours their attention span was clearly spent and the pair started whispering until admonished by a stuffy old matriarch (me). Why do people bother going to the cinema? I do hope Cinema Etiquette becomes a required module in Monsieur Gove’s new rigorous education system.
And so to the film itself, Les Miserables: the all-conquering musical that was hauled from stage to screen with great aplomb.I am rather ashamed to admit that I didn’t know the story, or anything about the musical except Do You Hear the People Sing? (which was performed in panto with enthusiastic hopelessness by the amateur dramatic group I belong to) and I Dreamed A Dream.
Victor Hugo’s tale is classic a 19th century novel: Jean Valjean (Hugh Jackman) jumps bail and is pursued by the uncompromising police inspector Javert (Russell Crowe). In his factory, Valjean stands helpless as one of his workers, the beautiful single mother Fantine (Anne Hathaway), is thrown onto the street by her fellow workers. She is forced into prostitution to pay for the upkeep of her daughter Cosette who is living with the grasping innkeeper and his wife (Sacha Baron Cohen and Helena Bonham Carter).
Valjean rescues Fantine from the streets, and on her deathbed, promises to care for her daughter Cosette (Isabelle Allen/Amanda Seyfried). Years later, the young beauty is drawn into a love triangle with student Marius (Eddie Redmayne) and Eponine (Samantha Banks).
This is an amazing film. It looks good;with sweeping views, a cast of thousands,a set created with no expense spared. It is vast. The story is sung throughout– disconcerting at first in a cinema (the type of approach that teenagers find amusing) but this is soon forgotten and one is swept along with the plot.
The score is soaring and memorable, staying with me for days. Only a handful of the players can really sing; a tactic bearable in the frothy Mamma Mia! but not so successful in the barricades. There was one moment when the brilliant Jackman, who draws out the humanity and conflict within Valjean,seeks refuge in a monastery and starts to sing in the deathly quiet of night. Both my companion and I instinctively (and quietly) shushed him.
Crowe was the Pierce Brosnan of the piece – he can’t sing but he can do mean with knobs on. Hathaway’s big moment – her rendition of I Dreamed a Dream –was disappointingly staged (in a dark room). A more cinematic flashback/fast forward to better times was in order. Still, she absolutely lights up the screen but a Bafta for half a show…?
My other gripe is that the actors were not quite grubby enough. There was quite a Hollywood gloss shining through the painted on mud and dirt. As the closing credits rolled, I wanted to see it again. But on stage –where it really belongs.